


A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

by Emotionallyunstabl



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Band, Angst, Crush, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, M/M, Mainly angst, Smut, because ryro is an angsty teen(tm), for like 2 paragraphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 05:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13474704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emotionallyunstabl/pseuds/Emotionallyunstabl
Summary: Ryan moves across the country (again) and meets Brendon, possibly the first person his age who wants to be his friend.ORThe masterpiece that is Panic!'s first album, turned into a shitty high school AU.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy.

Ryan Ross was not perfect.

Ryan Ross had flaws, he dressed weirdly, he didn't speak a whole lot, his personality could be likened to an asshole at times. Ryan was not perfect, and he knew it, like nearly every other human he knew knew it.

Nearly every human.

You see, earlier this year, Ryan had moved across the country to California, a completely transparent move by his father to get away from his most recent divorce; Ryan's 3rd ex-Step-Mom. And with that move came several new irreversible mental illnesses and the corresponding pain medications, and a new school.

To be perfectly honest, Ryan simply wasn't interested in making friends at this knew school. People generally weren't his area, and since he was in senior year, he didn't think making friends would be worth it for one year. 

Then he met Spencer and Jon, and perhaps most vital to this story, Brendon.

You see, unlike every other person Ryan had met, whether it had been a teacher, or a Step-mother, or even his own father, all thought it was good fun to point out Ryan's imperfections. 

Brendon however, was different. 

The way Brendon looked at him was as if the sun shone out of his fucking ass. The boy kept leaping on him when he walked out of classes, kept bugging and bugging him with kindness until Ryan kind of liked it, no matter how often he rebuffed Brendon's attempts.

After awhile however, whether it being Brendon's persistence, or Ryan's inability to say no to his charm and good looks- Brendon's words not Ryan's- Brendon won him over and the two (and Jon and Spencer) became friends.

This is where the story, and the start of many of Ryan's problems, begin.


	2. The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a friendship?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh look what we have here, another chapter within minutes because your author here has zero self control.
> 
> Also, if the tags seem out of place, it's because I've already written it, so I can tag it ahead of time.
> 
> Enjoy chapter 2!

"GUESS WHO'S FINALLY ON TIME!" Brendon Urie yelled as he ran into English, wild eyed and slightly disheveled.

The teacher, and most of the class, didn't so much as falter when he announced this. They were all clearly used to his antics, and continued along with the lesson much the same as they were before he arrived.

Ryan Ross however, was still new, and not quite used to Brendon and everything that came with him. Truth be told, Brendon wasn't making it any easier for poor Ryan. 

You see, Ryan seemed to take up a large portion of Brendon's current mind set, causing him to be the target of badly scripted jokes, and one-sided banter.

"One-sided banter or unrequited love?" Was Brendon's reply when Ryan finally spoke back to him.

So when Brendon proclaimed his on-time-ness to the entire class, Ryan couldn't help but look up and reply.

"You're twenty-five minuets late." 

Brendon looked at Ryan, suddenly smiling a lot more, making Ryan even more disconcerted. Brendon walked- no- pranced over to where Ryan was sitting and dumped his stuff next to him. 

"Ryan!" Brendon exclaimed loudly, so the whole room could hear. "You can talk!"

Ryan went slightly pink and a slight snigger could be heard from across the room. "At least I can read a fucking clock and turn up to lessons on time." He shot back defensively.

Brendon put over exaggerated hands over his heart. "Awwe, Ry," he cooed, shuffling up and resting his head on his shoulder, "did you really miss me that much?" He asked, staring up at him with his big, puppy dog eyes.

"Not in the slightest." Ryan replied, trying not to look at him.

"Now, Ryan," Brendon said, getting off his shoulder, but still staying way too close to be comfortable, "don't lie to me, didn't you learn that lying was a sin?"

"Guess I'm going to hell." He replied monotonously, half-serious.

Brendon laughed. "Wow, Ry," he said, leaning an elbow on the desk, "first you speak to me, then you rant about how much you missed me, then you joke with me?"

"I'm pretty sure all of those are just speaking to you." Ryan mumbles, not quietly enough for Brendon to miss.

Brendon grinned harder at that. "Ryan, I think you're in love with me."

Ryan snorted. "You wish." He said.

Brendon ignored him. "It's tragic, really," he starts, "the weird new kid, falling in love with the super cool, straight guy." Brendon sighed.  
"We should be in a romantic comedy."

Ryan didn't reply to that. He was sure Brendon was joking, no one knew he was gay, not even his old school friends, or even his father. He had only ever told to one person, Frank, his favourite nurse in the hospital he used to go to.

When Ryan didn't answer, Brendon just filled the space. "Come on, dude, I'm growing on you."

The corners of Ryan's mouth twitched involuntarily.

The shorter boy's face lit up. "Is that a smile?" He asked, excitedly, as Ryan tightened his mouth to try and stop the grin taking over his face. "That is so a smile," Brendon said, "now we're making some progress! Soon we'll be trading friendship bracelets and writing crapy indie lyrics on the side of the road."

Ryan ruffled his eyebrows. "You could do that now, if you really wanted too."

He made an excited noise at the back of his throat. "Ha! I really am growing on you!" 

Ryan sighed. "Dude, I'm not here to make friends," he said, watching an indistinguishable emotion flicker in Brendon's eyes, "I'm sorry, but our very brief friendship ends here." He said, and when Brendon's expression didn't waver, Ryan reiterated. "This is the final chapter of our story."

Brendon continued to smile and rest his chin in his hands. "Oh, Ryan Ross, you do not understand my charm-"

"-or lack thereof-" Ryan interrupted.

"Or my motivations." He finished. "This isn't the last chapter of us, or even the first, this is like the bit before the book." Brendon said.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "The prologue?" He questioned.

"Yes, the prologue," Brendon clicked his fingers together, "this conversation is like the prologue of our friendship."

The corners of Ryan's mouth curved upwards, much against his will. "Sounds like a crappy song lyric."

"So you write songs?" Brendon asked, leaning towards Ryan, not even pretending to do his work.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "I said that it sounds like a crappy song lyric, I never said I wrote crappy song lyrics."

"Ahh, but of course," Brendon said, clapping his hands together, "your song lyrics would not be close to crappy."

"You seemed so determined for me to be a lyricist." Ryan said, turning to his work, beginning to write.

Brendon smirked. "What else could be in that, oh so, elusive note book of yours." He nodded towards the small, unopened notebook, just sticking out of Ryan's bag on the floor between them.

Ryan didn't say anything, only pushing the book further into his bag with his foot. When Brendon could properly see his face again, he saw a pink stain flushing his cheeks.

Brendon continued to smirk. "The fact remains, you have not explicitly denied that you have written song lyrics in there."

Ryan finally turned away from his work to face Brendon. "So are you a detective now?" He asked. "A Sherlock Holmes with less impressive hair?"

"I like to think of myself as more of a John Watson," Brendon replied, "better with people, but essential for Sherlock to solve the case."

"You're equally as good at keeping girlfriends, I'll give you that." Ryan grinned, wiping the smile of the other's face. "Only John Watson is likeable, personally I see you as more of an Anderson."

Brendon seemed speechless at that. He gaped at Ryan, mouth opening and closing stupidly, much like a goldfish. Then, much to Ryan's annoyance, he smiled. "Oh, Ryan Ross, I knew you were cooler than you look."

+++

Ryan was walking with Spencer to music. Much unlike Brendon, Spencer was pleasant, even interesting to talk to. Hell, Ryan even might have to break his 'no friends' rule for him. The only problem is that with Spencer came Jon, whom he was friendly, but unfamiliar with, and Brendon, who was, well-

Brendon.

"Anyway, don't go near those kids, they're a pain to deal with." Spencer was pointing out (in a much more tactful way than Brendon would) all of the kids Ryan should stay away from, which turned out to be most of the school. But unfortunately, in Spencer's mind, Brendon did not make that list.

Ryan turned to where his friend was looking. "The band kids?" He asked incredulously. "Are you joking?"

Spencer grimaced. "I wish." Then, as if to prove a point, he raised his voice and said. "Come on Ryan! Time to go to MUSIC!"

Immediately, the kids looked up, and started yelling.

"You call the stuff you do in class music?" One yelled. "Try getting up at five every second day to go marching, then you know what real pain is."

"Look at those weaklings," the shortest one started yelling, "thinking they know music."

"I BET YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT FORTISSIMO MEANS!" And they started spitting on the ground.

"Ugh." Ryan said, walking back as to not get spit on his shoes.

"YOU THINK THAT'S DISGUSTING," one called after them, as he and Spencer started to walk away, "TRY PLAYING A BRASS INSTRUMENT."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Honestly, sometimes I think they're worse than the football- oh hey Jon!" He waved at his friend, who was leaning against the music building, waving lazily at them.

"Hi Spence, Ryan." Jon said, grinning at them.

Ryan looked around. "Where's Brendon?" He asked, before he could stop himself.

Jon raised his eyebrows at him, chuckling slightly. "Why, do you miss him?" He teased.

Ryan went slightly pink. "No." He said defensively. "I was wondering how many times a day he misses class."

"Well, he'll be happy you asked." Spencer smiled at him.

Ryan scowled. "Don't tell him, fuckwits."

"Helpful tip," Jon started, picking up his bag and pushing open the door, "if you want people to do something, don't call them fuckwits."

Ryan scowled harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone should write a song, purely out of Fall Out Boy, and Panic! song titles.


	3. London Beckoned Songs About Money Written by Machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never mind, maybe more than friendship.

Ryan woke up wet, sticky, and mind racing. His body was clearly pleased with the previous night's conquests, but his mind was a different story.

What the fuck made him dream of- 

Ugh.

He woke up before his father did- no surprise there- and promptly started to strip his bed and clothes of any of the previous nights, uhh, fantasies. He loaded his sheets and pyjama pants into the washing machine, not really focusing on what he was doing.

To be honest a wet dream about Brendon Urie was not something you got over quickly. 

I mean sure Brendon was physically attractive, I guess. Ryan thought as he walked around his house, pulling on clothes and packing his bag.

The dream was so vivid, the way his pupils blew so wide his eyes were nearly black, or the way his hair stuck to his sweaty face. Brendon was fucking sexy in that dream, everything about him, from his hair, to his jaw, his lips, his chest, his-

Ryan banged his head against the kitchen cupboard. What was wrong with him? Brendon was insufferable, so annoying in the way he never left Ryan alone, how he seemed to always know how to get on his nerves, how his face lit up in an adorable way whenever Ryan payed any attention to him, his smile when he- 

Fuck!

Ryan groaned. First he was letting people be friends with him, now he was developing crushes? No, this was not how this year was meant to go. He was supposed to not get attached to anyone, finish school, then leave and get as far away from his father as he could.

Ryan's plan was starting to spin out of control. 

Seriously brain, of all people, Brendon?

+++

We're just a wet dream   
Through a web scene  
Make a

"Whatcha writing?" 

Ryan felt Brendon coming towards him, before he spoke. Ryan slammed the book shut and looked up at him, clearly annoyed.

Brendon nodded as if they had a secret code he just understood. "Right, song lyrics." Then, much to Ryan's annoyance, sat down next to him. "New question, what are you writing about?"

Ryan went slightly pink, and buried his notebook into his bag, not saying anything.

Brendon smirked, raising his eyebrows at him. "Ooh, a secret is it?" Brendon asked excitedly. "My favourite, is it-" his face contorted into an evil grin, "is it about someone?"

Ryan sighed. "What do you want Brendon?"

"Why would I want anything from you?" Brendon asked. "Why would I not have anything but pure, not-malicious thoughts."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "I don't know, it's not like you've ever come to me with invasive, uncomfortable questions before." 

Brendon looked- impressed? Possibly? "Wow Ryan," he said, smiling, "sarcastic today, are we?"

Ryan, despite himself, grinned. "What can I say, I'm like the weather, unpredictable, a different version of Ryan every day." 

"And yet I like every single one." Brendon smiled back at him.

"Shut up." Ryan groaned, shoving him, failing to conceal his grin.

"Come on Ry," Brendon said, "Give in, we were made to be friends, to be together forever."

Ryan snorted. "Yeah, sure."

"Yeah, of course." Brendon replied. "You and me? We're made for each other, a package deal, we're like, like-" he looked around for a moment, as if trying to find something to liken them too.

"The sun and the moon?" Ryan joked.

"Exactly!" Brendon agreed, jumping to his feet. "You are the sun, the light of my life, the brightest thing in the sky-"

"Is that why you get sunburnt so easily?" Muttered Ryan under his breath.

"-and I am the moon!" Brendon continued. "I am closer to the people of the world, everyone marvels in my beauty, night in and night out-"

"The moon also has no real light without the sun." Ryan countered.

Brendon grinned at him. "Everyone likes the moon," Brendon said, moving closer to him, crouching in front of Ryan, "not many people can look at the sun without flinching."

Ryan looked right back at him, smirking. "Maybe I'm just too hot for some people to handle."

"Or," Brendon said, "you just are indifferent to how obnoxious you are compared to other people."

"I don't think you're in any position to be calling someone obnoxious." Ryan pointed out.

"I suppose," Brendon agreed, sitting down properly, "but while I'm more of the loud kind of obnoxious, you're more of the silent, judge-y, pretentious kind."

"So have you come here to criticise me then?" Ryan asked, changing the subject.

"Criticise?" Brendon questioned. "I am not here to criticise, Ryan." He clarified. "I just said you were like the sun, something that gives life to everyone and everything around us."

"And the thing that will eventually blow up and kill us all one day." Ryan replied.

Brendon rocked back onto his heels. "You, my friend," he pointed at Ryan, "are reading too far into these nicknames."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Why are you so insistent on these nicknames?" He asked.

Brendon shrugged. "I don't know, it makes us more like friends, I guess? I mean," he nodded at the notebook in Ryan's bag, "you can now write songs about me without using my name."

Ryan choked out a laugh. "You wish I wrote songs about you."

"You wouldn't need too," Brendon said, "we're so connected, I already know what your songs going to sound like." 

"Okay…" Ryan said, not quite sure where this was going.

Brendon cleared his throat loudly and sang (more like screamed). "WHEN THE MOOOOON ANNOYED THE FUCK OUTTA THE SUUUUUUUUN-"

"Brendon!" Ryan said, slapping his hand over the other boys mouth, sending him toppling backwards. A few passers by looked at the strangely, and started walking faster.

Then the bell rung, and Brendon shot up to his feet. "It's time for class Ryan!" He said loudly. "Meaning it's time for me to spend twenty minutes in the bathroom, let's go!" And he marched off, not even checking to see if Ryan followed.

Ryan did not follow, but he did watch Brendon walk away for a long time, a smile plastered onto his face.

He was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to those two guests who left kudos, love you guys.


	4. Nails for Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :(

Ryan was numb. Dark, hollow, depressed, whatever you want to call it. His skinny, seventeen year old self is lying in bed, unable to move, wanting death to engulf him then and there.

He should call the hospital, get shoved into a room with a bunch of other depressed people getting fixed. Ryan is broken, too broken to call out for help.

These times, when he can't get out of bed, Ryan thinks they're the cruelest times. You're hungry, and want to die, but you can't get up to eat. Hell, you can't even get up to kill yourself, which seems counterproductive if you're speaking from the depression's point of view.

Ryan wished they didn't move, the people at his old school ignored him, there was no Brendon trying to be friends with him, fucking with his feelings. He also liked the doctors and nurses in his old hospital.

Heck, he even has his favourite, Frank, on speed dial. 

Frank was the only person, apart from Ryan himself, who knew he was gay. The only reason why he thought it was safe to tell Frank, is because Frank had a boyfriend, Gerard, who sometimes visited and brought Frank coffee, and pastries for the patients.

However Frank was on the other side of the country, and won't be able to help him now.

Ryan's arm was moving, he could move his arm. His legs were still like rocks, but if he focused hard enough, he could move his arm. He grabbed his phone clumsily, and blindly pressed on a number in his phone.

When he person picked up he started yelling. "I don't know who I just called but I need someone to come and get me." He said, and started to list off his address. "Please, the front door should be unlocked."

The person on the other end hung up, and his arm came crashing down onto his bed, as if it had just done the most physically demanding exercise in the world. 

He lay there for a little while longer, before two people came running through his door. Spencer and Jon came running through, the former seeming to be having a panic attack. 

"Spence, calm down," Jon said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Ryan, what's wrong."

"Call 911," he panted, sucking in great heaves of breath, "hospital, mental illness, can't move-" Ryan tapered off, still panting for no reason.

Jon turned to Spencer. "Call 911, mental illness, then help me lift him."

The last thing Ryan heard before he blacked out, was yelling.

+++

"No, you mustn't go in there!" 

Ryan shifted in his bed, the sound of unfamiliar voices disconcerting. For a moment, he wondered if there were robbers in his house, but then the memories from last night came flashing back.

Spencer, Jon, depression, me- FUCK.

"Who the hell are you," Ryan cringed at his father's voice, "go away, boy, you're not family."

"Fuck you!"

Ryan froze. That was a different voice, a familiar voice.

"I fucking drove him here you dick." Brendon yelled.

"Yes, sweetheart," the unfamiliar female voice- nurse? Doctor?- interrupted, "but Ryan needs rest now, why don't you join your friends, Spencer, and Joe?"

"Jon." Brendon corrected. "Three letters."

"I'm glad that you can count." Ryan's father but in. "But now you need to leave."

"No." Brendon said. "I am staying here."

Ryan cracked his eyes open a fraction of an inch, to see what was going on. The nurse and his had their backs to him, and seemed to be blocking Brendon from the doorway. He could see Brendon's face, still attractive, even with the bags under his eyes, and the 'I'm-about-to-murder-a-bitch' look on his face.

"Go home or I'll call your parents." The nurse threatened. "We can do that here."

"Too late." Brendon snapped. "I called them last night when I got here, they now I've been here for hours, fucking waiting for visiting hours."

The nurse sighed. "We can't let you in, he's resting."

"If you did your fucking job right, you'd know he's been awake the entire duration of this conversation." Brendon said, looking directly at him.

The other two turned around to see Ryan, eyes wide and looking like a deer caught in headlights. He opened and closed his mouth stupidly.

The nurse immediately rushed towards him. "Good, you're awake, you have visitors!"

Both his father and Brendon started forward, but the latter was stopped by the nurse. "What the fuck's wrong now?" He groaned in annoyance, as he turned to the nurse.

"Family takes priority." She said, and Brendon threw his hands up in the air, storming out.

Now just Ryan, his father, and the nurse remained. His father looked at the nurse, with a faked apologetic smile on his face. "I'm so sorry, but could be and my son have a moment alone?"

Ryan swallowed, he knew where this was going: no where good.

As the nurse nodded herself out, his father rounded on him. "Why the fuck did you call a fucking ambulance?" He yelled, just quiet enough so they couldn't hear it outside.

Ryan didn't answer.

"Do you know how fucking much this is costing me?" He yelled. "How much time I have to take off work."

"We have too much money anyway." Mumbled Ryan.

"Excuse me?" Questioned his father, slightly hysterical. "How about you try paying for everything, then we'll see who has 'too much money'."

Ryan didn't say anything.

"That's what I thought." His father said, apparently triumphant. "Now you must leave the hospital before the end of today, dinner is in the freezer." Then he turned around, opened the door and left.

Ryan stood perfectly still, staring at the empty doorway, until Brendon came bursting through it closely followed by the frazzled nurse.

They looked at each other, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to write depression, or suicidal thoughts because I personally haven't really dealt with either. I apologise if I didn't do it justice.


	5. Camisado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, these two are gay.

"Ryan!" Yelled Brendon, and much to the nurse's dismay, ran forward to hug him while he was still in bed.

The nurse gasped, and went to pull Brendon off of him, but Ryan held up his hand, laughing. "Hi Brendon." He chuckled. 

The nurse frowned at them disapprovingly, but left them alone, muttering about 'this generation'. Brendon lifted himself off of Ryan, grinning widely. "I'm so sorry we got you here late, Jon and Spence called me because you were sick and they needed a car, so I ran to your house, then I realised they needed a car so I had to run back and-" Brendon was talking at an inhuman pace, so fast Ryan could barely make out three words, "and then drove you here but that stupid nurse bitch wouldn't let us in and Spencer and Jon listened to her but I didn't and I stayed here for hours, then she-"

"Brendon!" Ryan laughed over the top of him. "I'm fine, you-" he paused, choking on his words, "you- you were great, thanks Brendon." He smiled up at him.

Brendon smiled back, and they stayed like that for a while, dopily staring at each other.

Of course, Brendon hand to break the beautiful moment. "Is it okay if I eat some of your breakfast?" Brendon asked quickly. "I haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch."

Ryan snorted. "Go for it." He said, gesturing vaguely at the dish he presumes the nurse put down.

Brendon wolfed down the hospital food, and Ryan stared at him, wondering why the hell he hadn't asked what was wrong. When he called Spencer to help him, he had an array of excuses lined up; things he could tell them that weren't the truth.

"Brendon," Ryan started.

Brendon looked up from the dish. "Yes, Sunshine?"

Ryan grimaced at the nickname. "Why haven't you asked what was wrong?" He said, staring at him.

Brendon paused, taking another bite out of a roll. "Do you want to tell me?"

Ryan shook his head.

Brendon gestured an arm out towards him. "Exactly." He said, going back to Ryan's food.

Ryan looked at him, shocked. "But- but I-"

"Ry," Brendon said, smiling, "I'm not going to ask if you don't want to tell me, or if I'm just going to get lied to."

Ryan stared at him.

"Contrary to popular belief," Brendon chuckled, "I am not an asshole." 

"I didn't-" Ryan cut off, he sighed, then smiled back at him. "Thanks, Brendon." He said, lying back into his pillows.

"It's okay, Sunshine," Brendon assured, "just sit back, relax, and listen to my calming voice, putting you to sleep."

Ryan snorted. "No offence, but I don't think I'd be able to fall asleep with you in the room," he joked, "I'd be too paranoid that you'd do something to me."

Brendon laughed at the inuendo. "I thought we established I wasn't an asshole?" He questioned, still chuckling. "I would only do things to you with your consent."

Ryan ducked his head, snorting and failing to hide the blush on his cheeks. "I'm sure you're a gentleman, Brendon." He said, grinning.

Brendon wiggled his eyebrows. "You would know."

Ryan slapped him playfully on the arm. "Shut up you absolute prick."

"Oh, so now I'm the prick?" Brendon scoffed. "Please."

"It's not just now," Ryan joked, "you've always been a prick."

"Fuck you." Brendon slurred, leaning into Ryan slightly.

"You wish." Ryan shot back.

Something fleeting, and fragile flickered across Brendon face, but it was gone in an instant when he snorted, and put his hands up in the air. "Sorry, bro, but I'm as straight as an arrow."

"Bro?" Ryan questioned. "Also I don't know what arrows you've been looking at, but the ones that I've seen are actually straight."

"Fuck off." Brendon said.

Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but the nurse came running back to see them. 

"Okay, time's up, you are a minor who needs to be at school, and Ryan needs attending too." She said, shepherding Brendon out of the door.

"Come on," Ryan complained, "I'm fine!"

"For now." The nurse said grimly, then turned to Brendon. "Go away, you'll see him again."

"I'll be at school tomorrow!" Brendon called out at Ryan, as he was shut behind the door.

Ryan laid down onto his bed properly, smiling to himself.

He was still fucked.

+++

A few hours later, Ryan was bored out of his mind, lying in that hospital bed. Then his phone dinged.

Unknown Number: if u r better tomorrow theres a party on

Ryan stared at the text, wrong number maybe? He wasn't ever invited to parties, but the person who was supposed to be receiving this was apparently sick.

Me: Who's this?

There was no reply for a few minutes, so Ryan assumed it was a wrong number. Five minutes later, his phone went off.

Unknown Number: brendon 

Me: oh okay

He tapped on the number and started to make a contact. (Yes he used their nickname, sue him)

Moon: idk whos house its at but we can go w spence n jon after school

Me: sounds good

Moon: :)))

Ryan put his phone down, smiling to himself. Although his plan was to have no friends, he couldn't help but smile even though he had some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on holiday so wifi is hard to come by. I'll try to post another chapter later today if I can.


	6. Time To Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little less suicide, a little more "touch me".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert clip of Ryan Ross singing OH NO NOOOOO for ten minutes straight*

Okay, come on Ryan. He thought. Pull yourself together, don't fuck up, don't kill yourself. Easier said-or thought- that done in Ryan's opinion. 

Nevertheless, Ryan pushed the house's door open and walked inside. 

It was loud, and there were lots of people. Ryan took a deep breath, which was harder than one might expect to do, and walked around the crowd to where he assumed was the kitchen, where he hoped less people would be.

He lost his friends, and it was dark, with flashing lights, like someone was trying to imitate a club, or a rave. As he made his way over to the kitchen, he found that it was just as crowded there.

He swivelled around, trying to find Spencer, or Jon, or hell, even Brendon. 

"Hey gorgeous," came a voice from behind him. He turned to see a girl, wearing a bathing suit? At least he thinks it's a bathing suit, wait is there even a pool here? The girl advanced on him, "you look a little up tight, do you mind if I," she leaned in, "loosen you up a bit?"

Ryan grimaced. "I'd try working on your dirty talk before you try and get someone to sleep with you." He said, turning away.

The girl stood there, shocked, and very offended. She made noises of indignation, which Ryan ignored.

He kept walking around the crown, trying to find- although he'd never admit it- Brendon. It had just occurred to Ryan that maybe Brendon had gone off with some girl. The though made something in the pit of his stomach squirm.

Perhaps Brendon took him to this party, assuming he would go off with a girl. Maybe everyone was supposed to partner- or group- up and sleep with each other. Was this how parties worked how the fuck was he supposed to hide the fact he was gay.

He was getting into panic attack territory. Take it back, Ryan. He thought. Compose yourself. 

Suddenly his wrist was in someone's grasp, and he was pulled into the crowd of dancing people. Then, he was nose to nose with Brendon, who was taking both his hands and dancing with him.

It was sweaty, bodies everywhere, much like a mosh pit. All Ryan could hear was the thumping if the bass speakers, all he could feel was Brendon's, hands, securely on his hips.

"Brendon-" Ryan gasped, as he realised what was going on, "Brendon, what are you-"

"Shhhhhhh," Brendon said, having to lean right into Ryan ear in order to be heard, "don't ruin it." He said, removing a hand from Ryan, to grab some alcoholic substance from a passerby, letting his other hand roam up and down Ryan's sides, each time getting higher, and lower.

He downed half of the drink then wordlessly offered it to Ryan, who nodded. Brendon slowed their movements somewhat, as he poured the rest of the drink down Ryan throat. 

Ryan gagged. "What the fuck is in that?" He proclaimed, grabbing a hold of the drink and chucking it behind him.

Brendon shrugged. "Most likely a mixture of canned beer and the strongest alcohol they could steal from their parents."

"So this could get me really drunk," they were really close to hear each other, mouths at each other's ears, "really drunk." Ryan stated. 

Brendon shrugged, and reached out to steal another drink, his free hand starting to go down to Ryan's ass, and up his shirt, then back again. He raised the cup to Ryan's lips, eyebrow cocked as of to ask if he wanted any. 

Ryan nodded and Brendon lifted the cup to tip the liquid down his throat. It burned, but it made him feet so good, like everything was a good idea. This party was a good idea, dancing with Brendon was a good idea, getting drunk was a good idea.

The two stayed in the crowd, dancing ridiculously close to each other. Then Brendon took him again by the hips, and pulled them impossibly closer together, so that their chests were flushed together, the friction building between them.

Ryan, being slightly taller, looked down at Brendon, who was looking back up at him, eyes hooded, biting his lip, moving his hips in a way that should be illegal. Brendon was still at his ear, making small grunting noises and he grinded on him, sending all the blood straight to Ryan's cheeks… and his pants.

Brendon's lips, then teeth, brushed ever so softly against his ear, forcing an indescribable noise out of his throat. Ryan ran his hands up and down Brendon's arms, feeling him shiver with every rake of his nails. 

He shoved his hands down Ryan's back pockets, guiding one of his legs between his own. He grinded away at Ryan's thigh, enjoying the feeling of their equally impressive erections so close together.

Then, Brendon speaks, low, and sexy. "There's a spare room upstairs."

They break apart slightly, staring at each other, nose to nose, judgement clouded by alcohol.

"Let's go." Ryan answered.


	7. Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you listened to the song, what the fuck do you think this chapter is going to be about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can skip this chapter if you don't want to read smut. 
> 
> Seriously, the only reason why this is a smut chapter is  
> a) how could it not be that would just be disrespectful to the song  
> And  
> b) I said anyone could write better smut that the shit that's in 50 shades so then my friend asked me to write this monstrosity   
> Enjoy ::|

Brendon grabbed Ryan's hand, and pulled him out of the crowd, ducking under people, spilling alcohol everywhere. Bodies, moving together are everywhere, sweating and jumping to the music. Ryan would've collapsed, had Brendon's hand not been securely in his. 

They had made themselves free from the dancers, and they were now giggling together, stumbling and laughing, ignoring everyone around them. There were some smokers in one corner, staring at walls, and couples in another, making out.

Brendon ended up tripping over two bongs, and stepping in someone's bra, giggling as Ryan clutched onto his arm. They were both drunk, too drunk to realise what they were doing could have possible repercussions.

They stumbled up the stairs, tripping and falling into each other, in their own little world. Brendon grabbed onto Ryan's hand again, and pulled him through a door.

Inside seemed to be a spare bedroom, with plane curtains, drawn fully. There was a large, brown bed in the centre of one of the walls.

He closed the door behind them, and started backing Ryan up against the bed. "Hey…" Brendon slurred, "sexy."

Ryan snorted. "What are you doing?" He asked, all intelligent thought driven out by alcohol.

Brendon rolled his eyes. "Seducing you obviously." He said, lying Ryan flat.

"But- but-" clearly Ryan's drunk brain was a lot slower that is sober one, "but you're straight?" He said, more as a question.

Brendon scoffed, climbing on top of him. "If I was straight would I be doing this," he kissed Ryan, hard and messy, "or this," he kissed Ryan again, "or this?" He kissed Ryan a third time, and stopped, silently questioning him.

"Don't stop." Ryan said, arms reaching for Brendon's face needingly.

Brendon leant down and kissed him, longer this time, straddling his hips and rebuilding the erections they had before. Ryan wined and tugged on Brendon's shirt, wishing for it to be off. Brendon broke the kiss and looked down at him smirking.

Ryan was not impressed. "Did I say you could stop kissing me?" He asked, trying to pull Brendon back down by his shoulders.

Brendon chuckled. "Do you want me to keep kissing you or do you want the shirt off?" He asked, smiling.

"Umm…" Ryan hesitated for a full three seconds before he said. "Shirt." And started to pull Brendon's off.

He lifted his arms up to help Ryan with the task, letting out a breath when they finally succeeded. Ryan hummed in appreciation as he ran his hands all over Brendon's chest, before he reached behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. 

"You should be shirtless more often." Ryan said against Brendon's lips.

"You should be too." Brendon breathed back, starting to unbutton Ryan's shirt.

Ryan, too drunk to be self conscious, let him, sliding his arms out of the sleeves. Then Brendon stopped kissing him, stopped grinding on him, and Ryan started to feel sad about it, but then he realised Brendon was moving him against the headboard, unbuttoning his pants.

Ryan was up against the headboard, Brendon straddling him, their bare chests pressed together, pants sliding down his legs. Brendon continued kissing him, biting on his bottom lip, forcing a groan out of one of them.

Ryan pushed him off, and Brendon looked at him strangely. "I thought you wanted me to kiss- sweet holy Jesus Fuck!" Brendon moaned, as Ryan started to bite at his neck, sucking a hickey at his collar bone. "Ryan- fuck!" He groaned, grinding harder.

Ryan ran his hands over Brendon's chest, running his fingers over his abs. He stopped sucking on his neck and lifted his head up to kiss Brendon. As they kissed, he moved his hands further down Brendon's front, to his waist, to his hips, to the buckle of his belt. Ryan was sliding off Brendon pants, pulling them off, then bringing his hands up to play with the edge of his boxers.

Ryan smirked at the sight of them, already slightly wet with arousal. He looked up at Brendon, under his eyelashes, relishing in the hunger, and the need in his eyes. He let his thumb slide under the waistband, just not letting it go low enough.

God Ryan was a tease, even while drunk.

Brendon wined, and reached down to pull his boxers down himself. "Touch me, you dick." He growled under his breath.

"A bit needy aren't we?" Ryan teased, letting his fingers slide further, but not far enough.

"Fuck you." Brendon replied, moaning when Ryan finally touched him.

It wasn't like this was the first time that Ryan had done this, I mean, he'd never gone the full nine yards before, but a few hand jobs, and even some blowjobs were not unnormal for him. But with Brendon, it's different, instead of getting it over and done with so the other can suck him off, he is enjoying giving the other pleasure. 

Ryan took Brendon dick in his hand and started to stroke it, lathering it in his pre cum. Brendon grunted and whimpered at every movement of Ryan's hand. Ryan was starting to move his hand faster, watching Brendon as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, moaning loudly and he orgasmed into Ryan's hand.

Ryan looked away from Brendon, staring at his hands, as if his drunken, defective brain did not know what was on it, or what to do with it. He looked back up at Brendon, who was breathing deeply.

"Lick it." Brendon said suddenly.

Ryan blinked. "What?"

"I said," Brendon leaned in, "lick it." He demanded.

Ryan brought his hands to his face, looking Brendon dead in the eyes as he licked his come off of his fingers. 

Brendon bit his lip. "Fuck you, you sexy basted." And he moved Ryan off the headboard and pushed him flat against the mattress.

He pulled Ryan's boxers down, eyes roaming hungrily over his naked body. He hummed appreciatively, letting his nails rake Ryan's sides, leaning forward, licking up his neck, biting his ear.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, Ry," Brendon hummed into his neck, "so fucking good, you're gonna scream." He lifted his head slightly to look Ryan directly in the face. "Are you going to scream, Sunshine?"

Ryan bit his lip, over come with arousal. "Guess you'll have to find out." He breathed back.

Brendon grinned at him, moving himself down towards Ryan's cock. He flicked his eyes upwards, to where Ryan was looking down at him, eyes widened. He kept eye contact, pupils blown, and he lowered his head, and brought Ryan's dick into his mouth.

Ryan was clearly trying to keep quiet, biting back moans that came out anyway, muffling his grunts. Brendon Urie is apparently a magician with his tongue because despite his efforts, Ryan couldn't stay quiet, he yelled, and comes into Brendon's mouth without warning.

Swallowing Ryan's cum, he collapsed onto the bed, drenched in sweat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're teenagers, did you expect them to last long?


	8. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A summary???
> 
> ???????

Ryan's brief time at that particular Highschool in California, could clearly be divided into two parts, before the party, and after the party. Before the party, his and Brendon's friendship was building up, possibly into something beautiful.

After the party it came crashing down around them, without Brendon knowing.

Ryan knew what was happening, and you will too, as this is his story. Brendon however, was never told what made their relationship crumble.

Well, he was possibly told later life, but that's another story.

We must come back to this story, and in this story, Ryan was still at the party, upstairs, with Brendon, naked. 

Brendon would then fall asleep, and Ryan would put his clothes on, leaving the party, thinking he was going about his business undetected.

Spoiler Alert: he was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I haven't updated in a while and this chapter is extremely short, I'm posting two chapters.


	9. But It's Better If You Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan needs to learn how to use his words. No not by writing emo lyrics by talk to Brend- DAMNIT RYAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded two chapters in one day so make sure you've read the last one before reading this chapter.

Ryan was buzzed; happy, and drunk. He was stumbling home -thank god his house was only the next street, because otherwise he would've had no way of getting home- humming to himself, he fumbled with his key for a while, laughing to himself as he tried to jam it in upside down. 

When he finally got into the house, he stumbled into his room, and jumped into his bed, moments from the party replaying in his head. He went to sleep, think of Brendon covered in sweat.

Brendon's eyes, gazing at his body hungrily, or else looking directly at him, pupils blown wide. Brendon's hair, the way it stuck to his forehead as he sweat, or the way his was soft, and long enough to grab hold of.

Brendon.

+++

Ryan woke up with a bitch of a headache, and flashing memories. Memories specifically of Brendon. His heart started racing fast, his mind whirring. Was Brendon into him? Was this just a drunk thing? Were they a thing now? Would they ever speak again?

After this quick minor- major- freak out, Ryan realised his phone going off with notifications. He looked down, saw that it was a group chat, and silenced it, without paying any attention to the messages. 

He went about his morning without thinking, at least about what he was doing anyway. As he was missing the toothbrush with the toothpaste, he thought of Brendon, smirking up at him, biting his lip. When he put the entire egg in the pan, including the shell, he was thinking of Brendon, hair messed up, and lips wet. When he gave up on the eggs, and poured himself cereal, milk first, he was thinking of Brendon, looking at him with what one could describe as affection.

He was over the initial fear of the previous night, he had accepted it, and now? He was almost excited.

He practically ran to his phone after he had finished eating, scrolling though the group chat to see what he had missed.

***you're a bitch group chat

Jon&on&on&on: wow how fucking drunk were you brendon   
Jon&on&on&on: I didn't see you the entire night pretty much

Mooning_u: idk 

Jon&on&on&on: wat

Mooning-u: dude I got so fucking drunk last night   
Mooning_u: I can't fucking remember a thing I'm so pissed at myself

Jon&on&on&on: lol why

Mooning_u: I feel like I just had the b e s t sex  
Mooning_u: also im COVERED in hickeys 

Jon&on&on&on: and you can't even get the poor girl's hopes up and do it again

Mooning_u: fuck you

Ryan looked down at his phone, blank. He can't believe he could be this stoping, get his fucking hopes up, only to have them crushed by a Brendon-shaped hammer.

It's better off this way. He thought as he sat down, refusing to show emotion, even to the blank walls of his room. Now there's no chance of Brendon hating him.

His phone pinged again.

Mooning_u

Mooning_u: hey man u wanna come down to the mall with some people

Ryan looked at the text for a while, considering ignoring it, until he realised Brendon would see he read it. He quickly typed something out.

Ryro42077: sorry no 

This was the second step in his string of mistakes.

+++

The next day; Sunday, Ryan, although heartbroken, still had hope. Had hope, that all stopped when the next stream of messages came though.

*you're a bitch group chat

Mooning_u: dude I got wth Ashley 

Spencer.smith_: wow you're already official

Mooning_u: nah but she stayed the night ;;;;)

Jon&on&on&on: when will you ever realise that we don't want to hear about your sex life

Mooning_u: nevaaaaaaaa ;;;;;)D

Okay, now Ryan had no hope.

+++

Ryan was expecting a lot of things after the party with Brendon. Worse case scenario being that Brendon no longer spoke to him out of the shame that fucking a boy would put him in. Best case scenario, well, maybe that night could've turned into something. But Brendon point blank, not remembering the night they had together? 

Ryan might've preferred the first option.

At least with the first option, Brendon would be avoiding him. When Brendon is completely oblivious to Ryan's infatuation with him, it is almost like that night never even happened, like it was just some lucid dream Ryan had had.

Ryan felt like screaming, for a few, glorious hours, he had a taste of what it would be like to be with Brendon, what they could've been. And now it's all gone to that Annabelle- Ashley- girl.

What a fucking bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? :)


	10. I Write Sins Not Tragedies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows.  
> Except Brendon.  
> God damnit Brendon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is true, everything I’ve written is a sin.

Ryan stared at Brendon as the latter spoke, idly doodling on the corner of his sheet music.

It was just before class, when the teacher wasn't there, and the students were allowed to talk to each other. Brendon was sharing his opinion of some album, or track, Ryan wasn't really listening to be perfectly honest.

"Hello? Ryan? You in there?" 

It took him a while to register Brendon saying his name, and by the time it had sunk in, everyone was looking at him.

"What, uhhh," he racked his brains for an excuse, "I'm good, just tired." Good one Ryan, literally the oldest excuse in the book.

Everyone seemed to buy it, and went back to talking. Ryan let out a breath, perhaps too soon, because then he felt Spencer's eyes on him. He turned, and they made eye contact. Spencer had this expression on his face, like, an I-know-what-you're-thinking-and-I'm-sorry-but-I-fucking-called-it-and-now-Jon-owes-me-20-bucks kind of look.

Ryan did not like it one bit.

Spencer knew, and because he knew, Jon will inevitably know, only increasing the chances of it reaching Brendon. To be honest, Ryan didn't really know what 'it' was, how much did Spencer know? And how much would he disclose to Jon, if any?

Spencer looked like he was going to say something, but then the teacher came in. Shooting a concerned look back at Ryan, he turned around to face her.

And if Ryan didn't think he could get any more fucked, he was wrong.

+++

"Hey, Bren! Did you enjoy class?" Came an annoying voice as soon as they got out of music.

"Hi Ashley." Brendon said, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek.

Ryan clenched his teeth, going red, he brushed past them, walking as fast as possible, without breaking into a run.

Way to be subtle, Ryan.

Reaching his locker, he opened it with such force, that one of the hinges broke. Swearing loudly, he shoved his books inside, not even bothering getting his lunch. He had lost his appetite.

Fucking Ashley, with her blonde curly hair and her $500 make up. Fuck Brendon and his ability to make everyone around him fall in love. Also fuck Ashley.

Ryan knew he shouldn't judge Ashley purely based on appearance. He knows that she's probably nice, and apparently has great taste in men. And who knows, if he were friends with her, she might let him use her make up.

The halls were empty now, everyone had gone to sit in the cafeteria, or outside. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he started walking towards his friends.

+++

Ryan wondered to empty classrooms, and music rooms, trying to find Brendon, he had an idea for a song, and even though they fucked, he still wants to be friends. He heard Brendon's voice from one of the practice rooms, assuming he was going to play, he walked up to the door. Ryan didn't mean to eavesdrop on his conversation, but in his defence, both Ashley and Brendon were not quiet people.

"Honestly Bren, why do you even talk to him?" Ashley asked, clearly annoyed by the tone of her voice.

"He's my friend, and he's cool." Brendon said weakly. "He plays guitar and stuff."

He heard Ashley scoff. "I know you're nice and all, but pretending to be friends with someone is just weird," she said, "what does he even give you?"

"I- uhh-" Brendon sputtered, "good conversation? I'm not pretending to be friends with him."

Ashley snorted. "Pfft, I bet he was begging you to be friends with him at the start of the semester."

"I- uhh, no." Brendon said, firmer.

There was a pause. "What?"

"I wanted to be friends with him, I liked him, I still like him, he's a cool guy." Brendon said, louder, even more firmly.

"Come on, that guy is anything but cool," she said, "why the hell would you wanna be friends with him, he's so gay."

There was another pause. "Ashley-" Brendon began.

"No," she interrupted, "you can't possibly deny he's a homo."

Brendon swallowed. "You're not supposed to-"

"He wears make up for god's sake!" She yelled. "I bet he's in love with you."

"Ashley." Brendon said, drowning her out. "You can't fucking tell if someone is gay based on their looks, unless they're wearing a big fucking pride flag that says 'homosexual' on the front."

Ashley scoffed again, Ryan could hear she was about to argue.

Brendon didn't let her. "And if he was gay, it doesn't mean he likes every fucking guy he sees, if he was gay, he's still my friend, and he wouldn't try and fuck me if I'm with you."

"Then why don't you just go off and marry Ryan then?" Ashley teased.

"Fuck you." Brendon said, and Ryan barely had a second's notice before he jumped into a second practice room, and Brendon came stoning out of the first.

Ryan waited in that room for a good seven minutes, making sure Brendon had left, before exiting the room. He could hear Ashley in the other room, giggling to herself.

"Yeah, he left." She giggled.

Was she talking to herself?

"I'm in one of the practice rooms in you want to come find me."

It took Ryan a second to realise she was on the phone to someone, and another second to realise she was flirting with them.

"Come on, we can be quick," he voice lowered, "I'll make it worthwhile."

Ryan's eyes widened. She was talking to someone- not Brendon- and hooking up with them? Making out with them? 

Ryan was fuming, now that he had a reason to hate her, he really fucking hated her.

+++

Ryan was walking to the school gates with Jon- Brendon and Spencer weren't in his final class- when he heard her.

"Oh my god, Stacy, did you see what Lindsey was wearing?" Ashley asked loudly.

"She always looks like a disaster tbh." The girl- Stacy- replied, equally as loud.

Ryan liked Lindsey, she was in the year below them, and could play the bass insanely well. He also happened to like the way she dressed, very punk rock, with fishnets and bright lipstick. When Ryan asked what colour it was she said 'the blood of my enemies', word for word.

"Oh hi babe!" Ashley called, even louder and more high pitched.

Ryan cringed as she ran over to Brendon, hanging off his arm as if they had not even argued less than 3 hours ago. He was shocked when he saw that Brendon just let her. Jon cleared his throat, and Ryan realised he was staring.

So Spencer did tell him.

When they reached the gate, and Ashley had to part ways with her 'beloved Brendon' she kissed him on the lips, hard and without any warning.

"Awe, you guys are just the cutest!" Stephanie, or whatever her name was, said, in false admiration.

"I know, right?" Ashley said. "See ya baby!" She waved at Brendon as she and her friend walked the other way, not without shooting a dirty look to Ryan and his eyeliner.

Ashley did not fucking deserve Brendon, no one did.


	11. I Constantly Thank God for Esteban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon finds out Ryan doesn’t like his relationship with Ashley. But does he know why?

"Ryan?" 

Ryan looked up, Brendon was leaning over the lyrics that Ryan had given him, messing around with the chords on his guitar. Brendon picked up the lyrics, grinning mischievously at him. That was never a good sign.

"What is it?" Ryan asked tentatively, hoping beyond belief that he hadn't figured out that the lyrics were about him.

"Who is she?" Brendon asked.

Ryan crinkled his eyebrows. "Who is who?" 

"The girl you're writing about." Brendon clarified, looking like Christmas had come early.

Well shit. 

"I'm not writing about a girl." Ryan said truthfully.

Brendon scoffed. "Come on, there's no way these are just made up stories and lyrics, they all link up and shit." He flicked through Ryan's book, as if in awe.

Ryan shook his head.

Brendon continued to grin. "Don't worry, I'll find out."

+++

Ryan was walking down the hallway of lockers, books clutched safely between his arms and his chest. There were a few other people there, getting there books out, or fixing their hair, or something. He passed Spencer, who, without warning, snapped his hand up to grab Ryan's arm.

Ryan turned around sharply, dropping his books, as he bent down to pick them up, Spencer started to talk to him.

"Follow me, I need to talk to you." He said, slamming his locker closed.

Ryan froze mid-reach for his maths book. Oh god Ryan thought this better not be about Brendon.

"It's about Brendon." Spencer continued, gathering the last of Ryan's books UP for him.

Shit.

Both Spencer, and Ryan stood up, and, before he could do anything, Spencer grabbed his arm again, and pulled him into the nearest empty classroom. Spencer practically threw Ryan in, closed the door, then turned to face his friend.

Spencer stared at him for a solid twenty seconds, before signing. "Jesus fucking Christ, dude," Spencer said, "I feel so bad for you."

Ryan gave him his best death-stare. "Thanks," he said sarcastically, "I've got to go to maths now." He made to push past Spencer, but Spencer stopped him.

"Ryan," Spencer said, sighing again, "I know what's going on between you and Bren-"

"Nothing's going on between me and Brendon." Ryan snapped. 

Spencer looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing's going on between me and Brendon." Ryan said, slowly, and oh so sarcastically.

Spencer scoffed. "So you two fucking at a party is nothing then?" Spencer asked, arms crossed.

Ryan gaped at him, he knew Spencer knew stuff, but he didn't know he knew this much stuff. 

Ryan swallowed. "There's nothing going on between us, right now." Ryan spoke between his teeth.

"So you stare at him because he has a pimple on his face no one else can see?" Spencer asked, smirking slightly.

Ryan flushed red, repressing tears, he spoke. "So you've dragged me here to laugh at me and tell me Brendon has a girlfriend?" Ryan asked, angrily. "Thanks, Spencer, my gay ass a-appreciates it." He choked out the last two words, failing to keep the tears down, he ducked his head, and pushed past Spencer, and towards the door.

"Ryan-" Spencer started, looking back at him.

"No." Ryan said, strangled. "F-fuck you, Spence."

He didn't go to maths.

+++

"Do you reckon we could put a pause after 'whore'?" Brendon asked, fiddling his way round a rift with his guitar.

"Yeah," Ryan agreed absently, writing lyrics into his notebook, "that could sound good."

"Sweet." Brendon said, and started to play with the chord progression.

The door opened, and both Brendon and Ryan turned their heads to see Ashley at the door. She looked angrily at Brendon, shooting stink-eyes at Ryan every couple of moments.

"Bren!" Ashley scolded him suddenly. "What are you doing?" She yelled.

Brendon looked up, swallowing. "I have a free period, I'm just working on music with Ry- umm, Ryan."

Ryan pretended not to be pleased at the accidental use of his nickname. Ashley definitely wasn't pleased however.

"You didn't say you had a free period." She said accusingly.

"I always have a free period at this time." Brendon said. "You didn't tell me you were going to miss chemistry."

Ashley scoffed. "Well I had to check on you," she said, as if it was obvious, "in case you were cheating on me."

Ryan choked on air, sending him into a coughing fit. Ashley looked down on him in distaste.

"Shut it, homo." She snapped.

Ryan raised his eyebrows at her, and mouthed 'whore' when Brendon turned his back to put his guitar on the stand. Her face flushed red, and her eyes shot daggers into his skull.

"Ash-" Brendon started, in a surprisingly calm voice.

"No." Ashley interrupted, looking between Ryan and Brendon. "You can stay here, you obviously like Ry more than me."

"Ashley!" Brendon called after her, but she turned and slammed the door behind her.

Ryan whistled. "Wow." He said.

Brendon glared at him.

Ryan moved on. "Hey do you know the time?" He asked, not so subtly changing the subject. 

"You can check my phone, it's right next to you." Brendon replied, ignoring the sudden change of subject.

Ryan reached for Brendon's phone, and switched it on, the picture on his lock screen hitting him in the face with the force of a bomb. 

It was of Brendon and Ashley, together outside. Brendon had his arm around her, and she was kissing him on the cheek. Brendon was laughing, showing off his beautiful smile, he out shone his girlfriend in every single way.

"Is this really your background?" Ryan asked before he could stop himself.

Brendon looked up at him, confused for a second before realising what Ryan was talking about. "Yeah…" Brendon said slowly, as if he thought it was a trick question. 

"That's cool." Ryan said, way too quickly for someone to actually believe that he thought it was 'cool'. 

Brendon looked at him, as if trying to figure out something.

Ryan swallowed. No no no no no Brendon cannot find out.

"Ryan," Brendon started, cautiously, "do you like Ashley?"

Ryan blinked at him. Once, twice, thrice, then said. "Are you joking?" 

Brendon looked surprised, as if not expecting that reply. "No?" He replied, more of a question than anything else.

"Of course I don't like your girlfriend." Ryan said, wondering how the fuck Brendon drew to that conclusion.

"Okay," Brendon said, as if not sure what to believe, "but you do know that she and I are in a committed relationship, and nothing-"

"I don't like your cheating, whore-ass girlfriend Brendon!" Ryan interrupted, way too loudly.

It took a second for both Ryan and Brendon to realise what he had said.

"Wait, Bren, I-" Ryan back tracked.

Brendon slid his books into his backpack, and picked up his guitar. "I know you don't like me and Ashley being together for whatever reason, but you don't have to go making lies about her."

"Bren, I-" Ryan tried to speak, but Brendon had already pushed the door open, and walked into the slowly filling hallway.

For the second time that day, Ryan was practically in tears.

+++

The four always walk home together, they can walk in a way so all of their house are on the way to the next. They always walk this path, talking loudly about music, or about how dogs are better than people. Spencer gets home first, followed by Brendon, then both Ryan and Jon have a little while to walk before they get to their house.

Today, Ryan did not talk much, he stared at the floor when he walked, and after Brendon had left, him and Jon walked in silence.

"Hey Ryan," Jon said, catching his attention, and forcing him to look up. Jon nodded his head to the alley shortcut that they always took, the one that lead him directly to Ryan's house.

They entered the alley, and immediately, Jon stopped him. Making sure that they were they were the only two there, he turned to face Ryan.

First Spencer, then Brendon, and now Jon.

Ryan started to open his mouth, to tell Jon to shove whatever he was about to say up his ass. But before Ryan could say any of that, Jon held him by the arm, and pulled him in for a hug.

Ryan was surprised, shocked even. So shocked he forgot to hug back, but it didn't matter. Ryan had sunk into Jon's arms, despite being taller than him (admittedly, not by much). Ryan didn't know how long they stood in that alley, hugging, Ryan once again in tears all over Jon's shirt.

When they finally pulled back, Jon spoke.

"Are you okay?" 

No 'what's going on?' Or 'how's Brendon?' Or even 'what happened?'. Just, 'are you okay?'. 

Those three words didn't make Ryan okay, but it made him a hell of a lot more okayer. 

Ryan shook his head, but regardless, said. "Thank you."

Jon looked momentarily confused, before clearing his face. "For what?" He asked, seemingly unable to help himself.

Ryan smiled. "Just-" he paused, rubbing his eyes with his palms, "just, thank you, Jon."

Jon smiled back. "Any time, Ryro."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon Walker needs to be appreciated more.


	12. There's a Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought of It Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon is gaAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.
> 
> Also Lindsey.

Ryan looked into the mirror of his bathroom. He looked how he did everyday; white button up, eyeliner under his eyes, hair straightened into a fringe over his face. He already stood out like this, but to Ryan's old standards, he was actually quite understated. 

He used to draw on his face with eyeliner and go out, just because. He used to wear vests with flowers covering the front. He used to be as gay as possible one day, then wear a sweatshirt the next. Ryan missed putting way too much effort into his appearance; he missed putting way too little effort into his appearance.

Brendon thinks Ryan wants to fuck his girlfriend, and Spencer is being a fucking dick for some reason. Currently Jon is the only one on his side, and he doesn't care what anyone does.

Ryan pulled open the sink draw, and pulled out his eyeliner. Today, he would say 'Fuck it'.

+++

Brendon was staring at him. Well, everyone was staring at him, but he noticed Brendon. Good. Ryan thought, he wanted them to stare. Whether it was the birds he had drawn, flying above his right eyebrow, or the intricate lines curling below his left eye. 

All through homeroom, English, Music, and History; people stared. And Ryan let them.

During lunch, he walked into the cafeteria, and saw Brendon, Spencer, and Jon, sitting with Ashley and her friends. He stopped, hesitating for two seconds, the entire tables eyes on him, before he turned and sat at a table by himself. Everyone turned back to their conversations, but Ryan felt Brendon's eyes on the back of his head.

A few moments after Ryan had started eating, Jon came over, and sat down in front of him.

"Look," Jon said, shooting a few quick looks behind Ryan, at the table, where Spencer was surely communicating with him, "I don't really know what happened between you, and the others, and I don't want to know, but I'm positive they won't mind you sitting with them."

"I know." Ryan said cooly. "But I do mind sitting with that talking barbie doll."

Jon grinned at him. "Okay," he said, clapping him on the shoulder, "I've got to go to a guitar lesson." And he got up, to leave, but stopped, turning back. "I like your eyeliner by them way.

Ryan reached up to touch his face, where said eyeliner was. He smiled back. "Thanks, Jon."

Jon flashed him another grin, and this time turned to leave properly.

Five minutes later, Jon's seat was filled by Lindsey, a year 11 student, whom he had only spoken too a couple of times, and who had also been ridiculed by Ashley and her gang. She dropped her stuff, a couple of books, and her lunch, opposite Ryan, and leaned forward to get a better look at his face. 

"That's cool." She said after a while, leaning back in her seat and pulling her book- which Ryan now realised was a comic- towards herself. She flicked it open and began reading, as if it was normal for them to sit together; as though they did this every day.

Ryan opened his mouth to speak; to ask Lindsey a question, like 'Why are you here', 'what are you doing', or even 'where the fuck are you normally sitting during lunch, and why have you left it for me?' He was about to say a possibly awful, mixture of all three, when he noticed what she was reading.

"Is that a Killjoys comic?" Ryan blurted out before he could stop himself.

Lindsey looked up in surprise. "Yes…" she said slowly, as if it was a trick question.

"Like, the one by Gerard Way?" Ryan clarified, sitting up straighter.

"Why, are you a fan?" Lindsey asked, intrigued, also sitting up. 

"No I- well, yes I am a fan, I just-" Ryan hesitated slightly, "I know him, so it's kinda-"

"You know him or you've met him?" She asked, eyebrows raised, but face containing a glimmer of excitement. 

"I know him," Ryan confirmed, "he's my old nurse's boyfriend, I used to go to the hospital all the time, and Gerard sometimes came in and gave us food."

Lindsey stared at him, grinning, mouth slightly open. "Gerard Way used to give you food?" She asked incredulously.

"Yeah, well," Ryan shrugged, "I didn't see him that often, only when he came to visit Frank if Frank was working late." 

Lindsey leaned back, folding her arms and looking at Ryan, grinning. "Huh," she said after a while, "that's pretty sick."

Ryan grinned. "Well, yeah, I was in a hospital, I must've been pretty sic-" he coward underneath the table, as Lindsey started throwing her chips at him; punishment for his awful joke.

The two talked for ages, moving from comic books, to make up, and then to music. 

"Holy shit, you're going to be in a band?" Ryan asked, not quite believing what Lindsey was saying.

She hushed him. "Maybe," she clarified, "their bass player left to go to collage, and I'm going to audition during the Christmas holidays." 

Ryan whistled, grinning. "That's still pretty cool, how did you find them?" His eyes widened. "Are they well known."

Lindsey snorted. "Nah, they're just a small band that plays at like, clubs, and local venues." She paused, thinking. "I was looking around for possible spots in a lot of different bands, and the cute girl who saw me, I think is the drummer of the band."

"Cute drummer girl?" Ryan chuckled raising his eyebrows.

Lindsey grinned sheepishly. "I'm not picky, Gerard Way, or drummer girls, I'm down."

He snorted. "Fair enough."

Lindsey leaned forward suddenly, voice lowering. "Speaking of which, that guy with the forehead is staring so hard at us, even in surprised he hasn't mind-murdered me yet." She said. "Are you guys-" she hesitated, "…friends?"

Ryan blushed and sunk into himself. "He has a girlfriend." He mumbled.

"Ahh," she sighed knowingly, "and yet he's looking at you."

Ryan turned his head around to see Brendon, eyes widening, and quickly turning away from Ryan. Ryan blinked and slowly turned back to his new friend.

Ryan shook his head. "He thinks I want to bang his girlfriend." He said, without explanation.

Lindsey laughed. "He thinks you want to bang her?" She laughed harder.

Ryan flushed. "What's that supposed to-" 

"Ryan," Lindsey said seriously, looking at her watch and standing up, "my gaydar, is nearly perfect, and even if you were straight, I would not wish Ashley upon anyone."

She smiled at Ryan's red, defeated face. "I'll see you around Ryan!" She called as the bell rung, running off to her classes.

He could still feel Brendon's eyes on the back of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments?  
> Please?  
> Yes, even you Alex, I know you’re reading this.


	13. Build God, Then We’ll Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, can Ashley not?
> 
> Please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for homophobic language I guess?

"Honestly, my boyfriend's such a dick."

It was at this point that Ryan realised he was once again eavesdropping on Ashley. Only this time, she wasn't with Brendon, or any guy, but one of her equally annoying friends. But here he was, stuck in a toilet, listening to them shit talk Brendon.

In Ryan's defence, this is a gender neutral bathroom.

"Oh my god, Ashy," Her friend exclaimed, rather loudly in Ryan's opinion, "what did he do?"

Ryan heard a popping sound, like a pen lid being taken off, or a lipstick lid.

Most likely the latter.

Ashley clicked her tongue. "I feel like he just doesn't appreciate me anymore." She said.

Ryan heard things being placed on the sink counter. How long was he going to be stuck in this bathroom stall?

"Girl," he heard another voice, there was three people? Dear god, "girl, we need details." A noise of agreement was heard for friend 1#.

Ashley sighed, and although he couldn't see her, Ryan imagined she was leaning against the counter, as if something dreadful had happened to her.

"He's just a liar." He said dramatically, as if she was some philosophical person.

Ryan resisted the urge to snort. Brendon was the liar? Please, tell that to phone boy you were making out with.

"Oh my god, Ashy!" Friend 1# said again, seriously, do they say anything else? "Do you think he's cheating on you?" 

"I don't know," she sighed pitifully, "I don't think so, but I feel like he's hiding something from me, you know?"

She sounded pretty sad actually, Ryan nearly felt sorry for her, maybe she and Brendon were good together, and she actually liked him.

"What do you mean?" Friend 2# half-whispered. 

"Like, a couple of nights ago, I wanted to have sex, and he said he didn't want to." She revealed, as if this was mind blowing news.

Audible gasps were heard from the other two. "But- but he's-" the second friend stuttered incoherently

"A guy!" The first finished for her.

He heard a lipstick cap being replaced. "Exactly," she said, as if that proved her point, "guys don't do that."

"But did you have sex anyway?" Friend 2# asked, as if she couldn't help herself.

Ashley snorted. "Of course, you perv," she giggled, "Brendon can get over himself, he should be lucky I wanted to fuck him."

Never mind, Ryan doesn't feel sorry for her.

Before he could do anything, the bell rung, and the three girls left. Ryan let out a sigh of relief: this was the last day before the Christmas holidays, if he can get through today, he doesn't have to see Ashley for two weeks.

And if that isn't an early Christmas present, he don't know what is.

+++

Ryan was in the middle of his music assignment, when his laptop was shut for him from across the library table.

"Lindsey, what the fuck!" Ryan yelled, earning him a disapproving glare from the librarian.

Lindsey ignored him, leaning closer towards him. "Don't turn around," she said quietly, "but Brendon Boyd Urie is looking at you with the most desperate pining eyes I've ever seen."

Ryan automatically turned to look, but Lindsey intervened. "What the fuck did I just say?" She hissed, grabbing his face to keep it looking away from Brendon. 

"Owww." Ryan said, rubbing his face in pain. "What the hell Lynz!"

She shrugged. "I did tell you not to look." She pointed out.

Ryan glared at her. "Shouldn't you be in class?" He asked.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't you and Brendon be together by now." She retorted.

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Brendon has a girlfrien-" he began.

"Who is about as good for him as Trump is to America." Lindsey finished for him. "And I am going to keep hanging around you until you two are together."

Ryan smiled at her. "If we ever get together- IF," he stressed, watching her smile go more mischievous by the minute, "if we ever do get together, I hope you keep hanging around. Whether we are together or not."

Lindsey didn't reply immediately, she tilted her head a bit, smiling at him. "Man, if you were straight, that would've been a great pick up line." She said finally, chuckling at her own joke.

Ryan snorted and threw a pencil at her, missing, and earning himself another glare from the librarian. "Trust you to ruin the moment." He said, chuckling.

"You say ruined," she said, "personally, I think I only added to the moment." 

"I hate you." Ryan joked, re-opening his laptop to see if anything deleted.

"So does Brendon, judging by his I'm-a-jealous-boyfriend look he's got going on there." Lindsey observed over Ryan's shoulder. 

"Are you here to do work, or to micro-analyse everything Brendon does?" Ryan joked, scrolling through his essay.

"Neither," she said brightly, "I brought comics!"

+++

The last day of school was a blur, or at least, mainly a blur until the last half hour, when everything changed. The day went well, Brendon was still staring at him, but not talking to him, Jon and Lindsey were still talking to him, hell, Spencer even lent him a pen. Everything stopped being tedious, and normal, when the end of school bell rang, and the students started to file out of their classrooms, and into the hallway.

Ryan finished taking the last of his books out of his locker, ready for the winter holidays; for school to be over. He turned, bag slung over his shoulder, right when Brendon walked past him. The two made eye contact, and held each other's gaze for a second longer than normal. Ryan ruffled his eyebrows a bit, when Brendon cast his eyes either side of him, as if seeing if someone was there, then he looked at Ryan again, a smiled.

"See you after break." Brendon said nervously, waving awkwardly, eyes still flickering up and down the halls.

Ryan held his gaze on him, too shocked to do anything. Brendon bit his lip, face falling slightly. He ducked his head, and made to leave, when Ryan's brain caught up. As Brendon started to walk away, Ryan shouted. "You too!" After him.

Brendon turned around, mouth open; slightly shocked, to see Ryan grinning sheepishly at him. His open mouth turned into a returning smile, as he waved, and let himself be swept up amongst the crowd of students. 

Still smiling to himself, Ryan shut his locker, and followed the students down the hallway, and outside. Slightly dazed from that small interaction, he didn't notice Lindsey until he was already at her side. And he definitely didn't notice Ashley, until she started to talk at the top of her lungs.

"All the junior and senior girls are going," she said to her friend presumably about some party, "the good ones, anyway." 

Lindsey rolled her eyes over the laughter that followed. "If they think that I'll be cut up over not going to their bitch fest, they're sadly misinformed." She grinned at him.

Ryan laughed. "Text me about your audition, won't you?" He said, moving forward.

Lindsey nodded. "If I get in, you won't hear the end of it." She said.

"You'll get it," Ryan said confidently, "they'd be stupid not to let you in."

"See you later then?" Lindsey said.

"If not in the holidays, then definitely next year." Ryan agreed, leaning forward, into a hug.

They quickly pulled apart however, when one of Ashley's minions yelled. "Ooh, look the dyke and the fag, sitting in a tree." The girls around her laughed.

"We're the opposite gender," Lindsey yelled back, "if we were together, we wouldn't be dykes or fags, and we'd be getting more action than you."

Ryan looked at her, shocked and grinning. He held out his hand, and she high fived it immediately.

The girl who called out at them looked shocked, as if no one had ever spoken back to her. The people who didn't leave school immediately had started to crowd around the girl's group.

"At least she doesn't have to hide her face under all that make up!" One of the girl's boyfriend yelled, indicating towards Lindsey's dark eyes, and bright lipstick. "She naturally looks hot."

Lindsey raised her eyebrows, as the boys 'ooh'ed. "Clearly, you don't know a think about make up, because that girl is wearing more than I own." She said, smiling, hands on hips. "Second, if you're after the 'natural' look, maybe don't go for someone with multiple boob, and nose jobs?"

Ryan had started to laugh, at them, until he noticed Brendon and Ashley, walking towards the group. He was pleased to see that they appeared to be annoyed at each other, walking slightly apart.

"What is going on?" Ashley demanded, looking between her friends, and Lindsey and Ryan.

The first girl answered, before Lindsey could say anything. "The junior dyke is getting feisty." She laughed, Ashley joining in.

Ryan looked at Brendon, who was looking right back at him, hands clenched in a fist.

"Excuse me," Lindsey said, moving forward, everyone else moving back at her movement, "you started it."

The girl backed up, high heels wobbling in the grass. "Ugh, step away from me, I'm not like you, lesbian!" Brendon's jaw clenched.

Lindsey straightened up, looking the girl dead in the eyes. "First of all, my name is Lindsey," she said cooly, "second of all, I am bi, at least make your insults accurate."

The girl, and the people around her laughed, except for, Ryan noticed, Brendon, who broke his eye contact, and started to stare at the ground.

Ashley scoffed. "Yeah, right," she said, "you can come out properly, sweetie, we already don't like you, you don't have to make up something so we like you more," she clicked her tongue, "you're not special."

The crowd around her started to laugh, and Brendon looked up, fire in his eyes. "Ashley," he finally spoke in a low voice.

She ignored him. "I'm Lindsey, I'm bi, haha, like me, haha, I'm so special." Ashley imitated rudely.

"Ashley." Brendon spoke a bit louder.

Ashley ignored him again. "I'm Lindsey, I have no friends, except for a gay dude in a different year." she mocked.

Brendon repeatedly her name. "Ashley." Really loudly this time.

Ashley continued to ignore him, and Lindsey had fire in her eyes. Finally, Ryan stepped forward.

"Hey," he yelled above her, "bitch." She looked at him, clearly offended. "Your boyfriend is trying to talk to you." Ryan said, nodding to Brendon, who was looking as pissed off as Lindsey.

Ashley looked at him as if he was something disgusting, like a piece of chewed gum shoved under a desk. "I don't care." She replied, not looking at Brendon.

"Well maybe you should," Ryan said, stepping forward to join Lindsey, "seeing as he's your boyfriend and all."

"I'm his girlfriend, I'm allowed to ignore him." She said dismissively, looking down upon him.

"Well, maybe you should ask Brendon how he feels about being ignored," Ryan suggested, "maybe talk to him, you know, what people do in a relationship."

"Why don't you go be his girlfriend if you're so great at it." She sneered, lacing her fingers with Brendon's. Ryan noticed, he did not hold her hand back.

"If I, a boy, could make a better girlfriend than you, a girl, then you know you've got to get your shit together." He retorted, high-fiving Lynz again.

Ashley made an offended noise in the back of her throat. "Brendon and I are perfect for each other, thank you."

"Have you asked him if he thinks the same way?" Ryan asked, avoiding Brendon's eyes. "Or do you say that to everyone, like that guy you who had your tongue down his throat a few weeks ago?" 

Everyone fell silent, some people drawing in breaths. Ashley looked at Ryan face flushed red. "I can't deal with this anymore." She said. "Let's go Brendon." She walked forward but Brendon didn't follow.  
"Brendon," she said threateningly, "come on." She said.

"No." Brendon said, standing still.

"No what?" Ashley said, confused.

"No, I am not coming with you." Brendon said, and Ryan drew in a breath. Clearly Ashley heard him, because her head snapped towards him, eyes cold. Her gaze fickered between them, eyes widening and face flushing red, she said. "Come on girls, lets go." And her group gathered around her, the remaining boys separating off into groups, heading home.

Now only Ryan, Lindsey, and Brendon remained.

"And then there were three." Lindsey said, looking at Brendon cooly. She turned to Ryan. "See you next year." She said, leaning forwards and hugging him again, walking in the opposite direction to Ryan's house.

Brendon looked at the ground, then up at Ryan. He nodded awkwardly, then turned to hurry off, taking a different path than the one they used to take together.

Ryan sighed, and started to walk along the path that lead to his house. The year was nearly over, but he was still only halfway through his final school year.

If you asked him a few weeks ago if he wanted this school year to be over now, he would've said yes in a heartbeat. But now, as he was watching Brendon turn down a path, away from Ryan's, he's not so sure he wants it to be over quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I did writing it. Comments and Kudos are welcome.
> 
> Also thanks Alex for reading this, even if you don’t really ship Ryden.  
> (Also leave a fucking comment you ass)  
> ((Just kidding I love you don’t leave me))

**Author's Note:**

> You might get two chapters in one day, seeing how this one is so short.


End file.
